Water Lilies
by TolkienScribe
Summary: In the late Third Age, Gondor exchanges series of attacks with Umbar. The corsairs threaten the coastline and Princess Ivriniel is tasked to bring aid to affected town accompanied by Captain Argon. Mutual aggression turns to friendship... and perhaps something more? One-shot. Complete. Part of the Green Leaves Universe. Do leave a review.


**Water Lilies**

 **Summary:** In the late Third Age, Gondor exchanges series of attacks with Umbar. The corsairs threaten the coastline and Princess Ivriniel is tasked to bring aid to affected town accompanied by Captain Argon. Mutual aggression turns to friendship... and perhaps something more?

 **Disclaimer:** Not one journey.

 **Rating:** T for war themes, relief effort and a hint of romance. (le gasp. I know.)

All of my stories are interconnected unless stated otherwise but you do not need to read one to understand the other.

My stories are now available as a list in chronological sequence on my bio.

For Certh, who wanted an Ivriniel who did not follow the prudish norm of fanfiction. :)

Enjoy!

 **~S~**

 _Bay of Belfalas,_

 _Third Age,_

Her thighs and backside ached. But complaining would be unseemly. So she held her tongue and did not say anything. Besides, at least she had a mount. Some of her company travelled on foot or on the uneven journey in one of the carts.

Her mare plodded onward faithfully. Normally, she was spirited but today she sensed her mistress was not in the mood for games.

"The roads are clear, my lady," Ivriniel's loyal guard told her. "That is a blessing in itself."

"Even if they weren't, we have no choice but to press through all opposition," Ivriniel answered calmly. The waves slapped against the rocks near them. She rode further from the road, letting the wagons on it instead. Ivriniel and her escort rode alongside them on their horses. The wind from the sea fluttered her hair into her face. Ivriniel caught them and curled them behind her ear. Some found their way into between her lips. She tugged them impatiently.

"Brave words from a noblewoman. But they do not seek brave words. Only relief in these hard times."

"They do not seek it, but they expect it." Ivriniel answered. "They look up to us. If they see fear, then they know something is gravely amiss."

Argon's lips curled with distaste.

"I am no noble," the man muttered, his heavily callused hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Ivriniel cast a wary eye at him, and silently agreed.

In lineage, Argon belonged to a family that were so remotely related to nobles that he owned neither titles nor property. In fact, the family of nobles he was related to often turned a blind eye to his family simply because they did not hesitate to marry among the commoners. In conclusion, he was the minor son of distant relative of a noble. His family worked as merchants and sailors. Argon had the honour to join the Swan Knights. From there he ascended the ranks until he became captain.

In looks, he was not handsome but he was charming. He was built tall with fair skin, but his thick, straight black locks and beard along with his brooding brown eyes enhanced his features. A scar slashed through his eyebrow and down his cheekbone. There was another cut underneath his right earlobe, currently hidden under the mass of his hair. Ivriniel saw him spar with other Knights a few times. His body relied more on strength than on speed when it came to a fight, but that did not mean he was clumsy. He was broad shouldered with a broad chest that tapered down to narrow hips and long legs.

Argon noticed her gaze was on him and gave her a questioning look. Ivriniel looked away and studied the path before them.

"Is something amiss?" Argon asked curiously.

"Not at all."

"You seem preoccupied." Argon pressed. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing of importance," Ivriniel replied.

"Highly unlikely," Mercifully, Argon did not press her further.

They stopped on the way to rest the horses and have a meal. They broke their midday fast on a light meal of preserved meat and fruits. Argon kept her company, since she had no other companion beside her.

"I was thinking about what you said, about the common folk looking up to nobles." Argon began.

"Truly?" Ivriniel asked with feigned surprise. "I never expected you to think."

Argon gave her a look and that was all. If it were someone other than Argon, she may have felt some remorse. Instead, she felt a smug thrill. Argon's eyebrow twitched but that was all the emotion he betrayed.

"If what you say is true, that the commoners look up to nobles, then the other lords should have accompanied us." Argon remarked. Ivriniel tried not to snort.

"Their beds are more comfortable than a ride for a good cause. That is all that matters to them." She retorted scornfully.

"Ah." That all Argon said. Ivriniel glanced at him suspiciously.

"If there is something else you would like to say," she said. "Then come. Say it. I am not the kind to be easily offended."

Argon's lips twitched.

"Even when I have something to say?" He asked dryly. Ivriniel smiled. So Argon noted her struggle to keep composure every time he spoke.

"I will try," Ivriniel conceded. "But I cannot make a promise I may not be able to keep." Argon answered with a deep-throated chuckle.

"In your position, I would have said the same." He conceded. "I cannot seem to help myself around my lady."

"Indeed." Ivriniel did not deny that his confession brought a warm feeling. "Now speak what is on your mind?"

"I meant to ask that if nobles loved their beds more, then why is it that you spend your time on the road? You can be safe in your palace, minding small affairs and listening to idle gossip."

"Someone must go and help the people." Ivriniel reasoned. Argon's lips twisted in what she gathered as distaste.

"If glory and fame is what interests you-" He began.

"Not glory or fame," Ivriniel corrected. "It is merely duty and compassion. It makes the fruits of what you sow even sweeter."

Argon fell silent. Ivriniel glanced at her from under lowered lashes. The man had a peculiar look on his face as he studied her. The silence stretched out between them until at last, she spoke.

"You do not approve?" Ivriniel asked.

Argon tore his eyes away.

"I simply misjudged you. That is all." He said gruffly.

"There is more on your mind."

"I merely think that you are now of the eligible age to marry and have a family of your own."

"And why is that?" She returned. "Why must I marry and have children?" Argon turned to look at her again, his eyebrows raised and his eyes intense.

"You do not want your own children?"

"The question is rather why I am obligated to find myself a husband." She challenged. Argon's lips twitched upwards slightly.

"Mercy on any man who considers you for a bride." Argon said darkly. "But I am not considering you for one and I will take your bait. I will rephrase. Marriage and children is the part of living a full life. Why not follow it?"

She passed him a smile, even though his words of not considering as an eligible bride stung her.

"The real question is; what is living a full life? Is it marriage and rearing children till old age or travelling far places for exploration? You see, living a full life is a relative term."

Argon leaned forward on his knees quickly. Ivriniel leaned forward as well in alarm, assuming he was suddenly afflicted with some pain. But then his shoulders quaked and Ivriniel caught a glimpse of his face. He was struggling not to laugh.

"Sometimes, I would consider my life lived to the fullest if I could only have you whipped." Ivriniel muttered plaintively. She sat back as Argon leaned back and roared laughing.

"I am not laughing at you, my lady." Argon said, choking on amusement. "I was only surprised by your bluntness."

"I would hate to be misunderstood." Ivriniel replied. Argon gave a deep-throated chuckle.

"That would be unfortunate." Ivriniel paused. "And if it is necessary to marry in order to live a full life," Ivriniel added. "Then why are you unmarried?"

"There is a very simple reason to that, my lady." There was an impish sparkle in Argon's eye that warned her he was up to no good. But Ivriniel found it hard to resist.

"Oh and why is that?"

"Because I do not need a husband," he replied, deadpan. Ivriniel was surprised into a laugh. "And the union will be wholly ineffective, not to mention, repulsive."

Ivriniel laughed and shook her head.

"You are insufferable."

"Oh, I assure you, my lady, my company is welcomed in many circles." He returned playfully. Ivriniel smiled at him.

"Well, you will refrain from speaking me about these circles. I am not the kind to keep unsavoury companions." Argon raised an eyebrow at her superior tone. It occurred to her that he understood what she meant. Ivriniel also realised Argon was not the kind to back away from a challenge.

"If you mean tavern wenches, my lady," Argon said slowly, with galling bluntness. "I do not visit them, nor do I encourage their company."

That sparked Ivriniel's interest. Such a thing was nearly unheard of, since many would mock the man for impotence.

"And why not, since you spoke so honestly?"

"I hold the unpopular opinion that the marriage between a man and woman is enough for intimacy, if both play their part. I am content to wait until I am wed."

"It is an unpopular opinion," Ivriniel agreed. Then she smiled at him. "But not wholly an unwelcome one. Still, I suspect you will settle for a bride from the city, perhaps a daughter of a merchant or a girl from the flower shops. The nobility would find your opinions laughable. They are wrong, of course." She paused, ignoring his amused smile.

"You are far from what I expect of a noblewoman, my lady." Argon said with a deep-throated chuckle. "I would not have such a conversation with one."

"Well, I agree. The conversation, for once, is amiable."

Argon laughed. Ivriniel waited for his laughter to fade into an amused smile before she continued.

"Well, I certainly hope my future husband shares the same views. I shall brandish a poker if he strays."

"I have no doubt you would." Argon said wryly. "I shall warn the man of it."

"I will thank you for it."

"A happy wife makes for a happy life." Argon remarked.

"The old sailor's saying! I assume you hear it often." Ivriniel said.

"Of course. Many of the Knights are wed."

"Is there any other that you know of?"

"Happy is the man who finds a true friend, and far happier is he who finds that true friend in his wife."

"Beautiful," Ivriniel approved, "King Aldor's words. Other than a conqueror and a just king, he was also a writer of poignant works."

"I have read a few." Argon agreed, "In the library of Dol Amroth."

"You have an interest in books?" She asked. Argon's smile turned wry as he reminisced.

"My father was keen on making sure I learned how to read and write. I was given tutors to teach me... If I pulled the time away from picking fights on the streets."

The image of a young boy with black hair and gangly limbs appeared in her mind and she smiled.

"I expect you were a handful. How did he manage you?"

"I was more than a handful. I was a like a rabid dog that needed rough handling. My father used to thrash me."

Ivriniel's lips pressed together and a crease appeared on her forehead. She hated the idea of hitting children, even the unruly ones. Argon grinned at her expression, guessing correctly what caused it.

"I was very wilful." He said earnestly. "I needed discipline. Truly. Or else I would have spent my years on the streets and died in some open sewer before I reached twenty-five."

"That would have been a pity." Ivriniel said. "There are only a few Knights that I admire."

He looked at her as if he saw her clearly.

"What is it?" Ivriniel asked warily.

"Nothing," Argon tore his eyes away and focused them on the bustling activity of their camp. "I learned more things about you, my lady. I am afraid I may even like you more as a friend and less as a rival."

"Thank the Valar," Ivriniel said dryly. "Miracles do tend to happen."

After breaking the camp, they mounted their horses and continued in silence. It was late afternoon when the two Knights that had ridden forward returned at a fast pace. Their grim faces told her all was not well.

"What is it?" Argon asked sharply.

"Corsairs have been spotted nearby." The Knight checked his horse when it stepped forward uneasily.

"How close?"

"Nearly a day's ride."

Ivriniel tightened the reins of her horse and sat firmly in her seat, silently warning her mare not to move. She had seen battles before, but never took part in them. That was not her task.

"Should we turn back?" A Knight asked. Ivriniel shook her head almost immediately.

"I will not turn away until our supplies reach where they are needed." Ivriniel answered firmly. "We are well-equipped to look after ourselves. But we should hasten. I do not wish to be caught out in the open. The town will provide some defence."

The town was like many others that occupied the coastline. The buildings were made of stone and the roads were paved and pebbled. Most of the windows were built high and faced the sea to catch breeze. The roofs were slanted so that water trickled off easily. The town had built a stone wall around its borders as extra defence against their enemies. It was fairly new, if compared to the weather-worn edges of other buildings.

People flocked the streets to watch their progression. The head of the procession consisted of Ivriniel, Argon and the selected few Knights accompanying her. Behind them was the long steady line of carts wheeling into the town. There were dried guides and nuts, with preserves made from fruits, flour and honey. Most of the food was meant to last then at least another six months, if the people rationed it properly. It was little aid, considering the other war-ravaged towns along the coastal line but at least it was something.

The people belonging to the town were mostly late in years. Few of them were elderly and children. All of them were dressed in dyed linens, with scarves around their necks to protect themselves from the sudden cold. In spite of good buildings and moderately fine dressing of the inhabitants, she saw many were thin with lack of food. It was clear that they needed aid.

The leader of the town was an elderly man with a slight stoop of his back, silver hair and a permanent frown on his face. After they were introduced, Ivriniel gestured behind her at her Knights.

"Along with the supplies, I bring the company of my men. These Swan Knights will aid you in improving the defences of this town-"

"Thank you, but that will not be necessary," the elder interrupted, casting a distrustful eye at her Knights. "Your Knights will keep their swords sheathed and their spears lowered, and remain inside the inn."

"Well, I would form a discussion with you, if you could hear me over your own mind singing your praises." Ivriniel answered coolly. Her escort duck their heads in a vain effort to hide their grins; they always enjoyed it when someone else felt the cutting edge of her wit. "I did not bring my Knights simply for show, master. They are worthier than that. I brought them for protection and that is what they will do. The corsairs will come. And my Knights are suited for war. The complete victory, of course, cannot be won until we have your people by our side." The last sentence was a small concession to sooth the injury to the elder's pride. It worked, but the elder was still a bit unhappy.

"You will be provided with everything you need." The elder muttered, looking away from her direct gaze.

"We will not need much," she assured. "A place for staying and refreshments are all that we require."

Her things were sent to a room in the town's inn. She helped the other men ration the supplies and distribute them through the families. The rest made it into the town's warehouse for future. They were interrupted in late evening by loud shouts.

"What is it?" Ivriniel asked Argon as he approached her.

"Corsairs are here. You must go inside the inn for extra safety."

"I will stay right here." Ivriniel said firmly. Argon's eyes flashed with sudden emotion.

"I would like to have a word with you, my lady," Argon said through gritted teeth. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to the inn they were staying at. They passed by many people, all of them surprised to see their princess hauled to her room. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Ivriniel turned her dark gaze at Argon.

"Remove your hand," she said coldly. "Or else I would make sure this is the last time you have hands." Argon went still, and then his hand released her suddenly like a trap gone awry. Ivriniel pulled her arm and folded her hands before her. Even though Argon was strong, his grip had been gentle. "Now, I will return to my duty outside. You will not hinder me."

"I will hinder you as I damn well please, my lady." Argon growled, "Even if I must lock you in this room myself."

"You wouldn't dare! No noble can outrank my orders!"

"Well," Argon said grimly. "I may be the minor son of a minor noble, but I am a Swan Knight, tasked personally to protect you. In that case, my rank overrules yours."

"You rogue!" Ivriniel's eyes flashed dangerously. Argon threw her a rakish grin. It was infuriating. He reached the door.

"Oh, I assure you, my lady, I am much better than you give me credit for." He bowed his head. With that, he closed the door behind him. She stood there rooted to the spot until she heard the key turn in its lock. Ivriniel lunged and tugged on the handle. The door did not budge. She cursed under her breath and went to her travelling bags.

"The fool may think he can keep me here," Ivriniel muttered under her breath as she searched through her belongings. Anger caused her fingers to tremble. She found her small pouch of hairpins and pulled it out, grabbing the letter opener from her writing materials as an afterthought. "But I will not be kept like a bird in a pretty cage."

She returned to her locked door with newfound purpose. She studied the door carefully. Since she stayed at a good inn of a town that was well off, the door's lock provided more security. It was a door handle instead of a door knob, and the metal piece was fitted with bolts. Ivriniel was not a thief, or she would have simply picked the locks. Instead, she turned her attention to the bolts. Picking up her letter opener, she set to work. The blade fit perfectly on the dented part of the first bolt. Ivriniel smiled grimly; the doors did not provide as much security as she thought, after all.

When the last bolt fell, she teased the handle back and forth but without any luck. The door did not budge. She gave up and studied the other end of the door, which was attached to the wall. It was joined together by iron brackets, and pegs were driven through them.

She went through her personal belongings until she found the oil she used for her hair. Ivriniel hurried back to the door and poured the oil liberally over each of the bolts. She waited a few moments for the oil to soak through before raising her letter opener again and working over the first bolt.

It slid upward after some coaxing. She turned her attention to the second one and met with success. When she finished with the third one, she pried the free edge and yanked hard at the door handle at the same time. Ivriniel scrambled out of the way quickly as the heavy door swung open haphazardly in her path.

Ivriniel discarded her pins and letter opener and leaped to her feet before dashing down the stairs.

"Lady Ivriniel!" The innkeeper's wife exclaimed when she saw the Princess descend the stairs. "The savages are outside- what in Arda caused such noise?"

"My door," Ivriniel explained, reaching the nearest window and peering out. "I removed the bolts."

"Removed the-"

"And the pegs," Ivriniel added as an afterthought. The sounds of conflict were loud.

"The pegs?" The woman repeated, dazed.

"I shall compensate for it," she hastily told the woman. "But for now-" She heard a shout from outside.

"They are inside the gates!"

Ivriniel knew it was only a matter of time. The corsairs were smart and efficient. They struck quickly, plundered and then disappeared like seeds in the wind in the time it took them to form proper ranks. Her father was unhappy at the relegation. Gondor had large resources in both men as well as supplies to maintain them but they lacked one thing; speed.

Ivriniel pulled herself away from the window.

"But for now, I must go." Ivriniel finished.

"Go? Go where? You cannot mean-"

But Ivriniel already strode through the main door.

It was chaos outside. The silence that met her when she rode into town earlier was fractured by shouts and metals clanking together. She spotted a long knife belted on an unconscious wounded man. She pulled it free and looked around.

Her Knights were easily recognisable with their deep blue cloaks and feathered helms. She also spotted the townsmen with their makeshift weapons. One of the corsairs closest to her cut down a young man and turned to her. Ivriniel never saw a corsair this close. She was always on high ground, safe and away from any conflict between her Knights and the corsairs during all her journeys.

He was brown-skinned, with a squat nose and a round chin. His black hair was tangled and braided messily away from his face. He wore leather armour instead of steel. The stench was overwhelming. The pirate smelled of old, worn clothes, urine and the Sea. Ivriniel tried not to react to the smell. He grinned at her; his many teeth blackened with decay and said something in his language. She doubted it was complimentary.

"Blast!" A familiar voice exclaimed. "Run, my lady!"

There was nowhere for her to retreat. The corsair sprinted towards her with a loud ululating yell, only to be thrown off course by a flurry of blue cloak and steel armour. It was Argon; she recognised him immediately even though he had his back towards her. Ivriniel retreated a few steps as she watched the struggle between the two men.

Argon bore down on his opponent with large and heavy swings. He barely gave that man any time to retaliate. Argon finally cut him down after he found an opening. Then he whirled on his heel, his eyes flashing dangerously at her beneath his helm. Then it morphed into sudden fear.

"Look out!" He shouted.

Ivriniel turned around, just in time to see a pirate charging toward her. His sword swung wildly in a wide arc.

Instinct prevailed. Ivriniel ducked down for cover and blindly buried her knife into the man's side. By some sheer luck, her knife found a gap between the armour. The man roared in pain and kneed her chin. Ivriniel's teeth met together in a painful click and pain radiated from her chin all the way up to jaw joints. She stumbled and her knife fell from her grasp.

"Stay down!" Argon barked. Ivriniel looked up as Argon embedded his sword into the man's neck. She crawled away quickly to avoid the blood spatter. He freed his sword just as Ivriniel raised herself to her feet. Argon grabbed her by her hand and dragged her into a small alley. He tugged her behind a cart and knelt, forcing her to kneel as well.

"Are you alright?" He demanded. He lifted her head with a hand underneath her jaw. He massaged her jaw gently, searching for any unseen injury. Ivriniel would have resisted, if it were not for the fact that Argon looked close to fury. "You are fortunate her tongue was not in the way of your teeth. What possessed you to stride into the battle like that?"

Ivriniel only looked at him stonily.

"Speak, curse you!"

"I have the experience of giving them my whole life without ever following them." She answered, her voice just as tart. "Besides, I never completely follow orders."

"Aye," Argon said grimly, massaging her jaw joints. "I realise it in the expense of losing my charge to death."

Ivriniel suddenly realised her stubbornness forced Argon's task even harder and looked apologetic.

"I did not mean to give any hardship-"

"Do not say anything," Argon cut her off curtly. "I am half-inclined to throttle you, but it is only for Prince Adrahil, your father, that I resist temptation."

Ivriniel pushed his hands away and matched his dark glare with an intimidating one of her own.

"I have not time for this banter." Ivriniel said icily. "There is a battle in progress, and standing here will not give us victory. There is no way for you to hold me here, so you might as well let me accompany you." She did not give him a chance to reply. She stood and began to walk.

Ivriniel looked behind her to see if Argon still followed. He was. And he was muttering under his breath. She slowed down a bit to hear him.

"Too headstrong," he muttered. "Adrahil should have thrown his girls into the bridal chambers of old for the rest of their young unmarried years until they are wed."

Imaging the notion in her head, and how she was sure both she and her sister would escape, Ivriniel smiled.

"That would be a futile attempt." She told him. Argon started as if he did not expect to be overheard. Ivriniel waited for him to show disapproval. Instead, she was surprised to see him smile.

"Indeed, my lady." He said. His voice dropped to a low amused rumble. "You would have driven your guard to insanity."

They left the alley. Argon stooped and pulled a weapon free from a fallen Knight's belt. He murmured a short prayer for him before straightening.

"Here," he muttered, thrusting it in her hand and wrenching the knife from her. "You will do better service with it than that oversized darning needle." He tossed the knife away. Ivriniel looked down at the weapon in her hand. It was a short sword, surprisingly light. The blade shimmered with whorls of blue.

"It belonged to that fallen Knight and not I." Ivriniel said reluctantly. But Argon shook his head.

"It will not do Caranhir any good now. Take it. Do you know how to use it?"

"Well, I certainly know I do not turn the sharp end towards myself."

Argon roared laughing.

"That is the principle of it. Come. Back to the inn."

Ivriniel stiffened. Argon caught her elbow.

"My lady," Argon warned firmly. "I do not want to return to your father with your body in tow and explain to him that it was your hard head that got you killed."

He barely uttered the words when they were discovered by two pirates. Argon pushed her behind him, blocked the blow of the first man and kicked the other in the stomach. The second man doubled over. He disengaged his sword and pulled his dagger free. He buried his dagger to the hilt into his second victim and turned his full concentration to the first man.

Ivriniel watched Argon as he bore down on the pirate. She held her sword at the ready, but Argon did not seem to need any help. Something warm and sweaty curled around her foot. Ivriniel turned. The wounded corsair held on to her, with Argon's bloodied dagger in his other hand. Ivriniel sank her sword into the man's neck. Blood sprouted from the wound and the man slumped with a groan. Argon cut down his opponent before returning to her.

"Are you alright?" Argon asked. Ivriniel held up her hand and looked at them, stunned.

"It's so bloody," she answered him. He laughed dryly.

"It is." He agreed. "Come, my lady, I should get you cleaned up." He led her back inside, to the same room where he unsuccessfully tried to hold her captive. A basin sat on a nearby table with a pitcher beside it.

"Let us go there." Argon said, nodding towards it.

He poured water carefully over her hands. She cupped it in both palms for a moment before rubbing her hands vigorously.

"It sticks as well," Ivriniel observed. Her normal composure was quickly returning. Argon laughed as he continued to pour on her hands.

"Make sure you go under the fingernails as well," he only answered. Ivriniel made a face. Bile threatened to rise again. She swallowed slowly and imagined the redness in her water came from a dye, and not from blood.

"I apologise," Argon said quietly. He lifted her hands from the basin and trickled water over them from a pitcher to wash away the last traces of blood. "I thought less of you. I should not have."

"You are not the first to err that way," she remarked. "Nor you will be the last." That induced a small smile on Argon's face.

"I am sure the next one to underestimate my lady would learn from his mistakes quickly."

"I suppose I should now give my other reason not marry." Ivriniel remarked. Argon raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? And that is?"

"As you have mentioned, I am too spirited. I do not cower in fear, nor do I timidly accept anyone's judgement if I feel it is incorrect. A conventional marriage will never suit me. My husband would either be too bold in way he would crush me completely or too docile to let me do whatever I wish. I want an equal, not more or less.

"I see." Argon said slowly. He met her directly. "Well, you clearly know what you desire. Perhaps the Valar would smile on you and grant you what you wish." Ivriniel laughed.

"A part of me wishes it would not be so," Ivriniel confided. "I do not mind surprises."

"And what makes you think you would not suit a bolder man?" Argon questioned. "I would think you can brave any storm."

"You are incorrect. I know my limits, captain. I am strong, but not that strong." Ivriniel said frankly, fully aware of her personality.

Argon studied her in silence for so long that she began to feel conscious of herself. She rarely spoke so freely. Perhaps Argon thought lesser of her now that he knew more.

"You find strength in most unexpected places, my lady." Argon said softly and warmly. "Come. It appears that I was mistaken to keep you under lock and key. You know how to hold your own." He then straightened and clasped his hands behind his back.

"My lady, as your humble and diminishes servant imprisoned in an oath to protect you from all harm, I plead you to remain here, where I can be of my best service?" Argon implored solemnly. Though his face was wiped of any emotion, she caught the imperceptible edge of laughter in his voice. And also, his words were clearing mocking.

"I would never dream of moving from this very spot." She answered sweetly. Argon grinned.

"Splendid!" He clapped his hands in an exaggerated gesture of satisfaction. "I shall return shortly. You may pull up a chair if you tire on your feet." With a jerk for a bow, Argon left before she managed a reply.

"Insufferable buffoon," Ivriniel muttered and folded her arms in wounded pride.

It seemed like hours while she paced impatiently in her room. The sounds of clamour died down and at last someone appeared for her. It was a dark-haired young lad, barely thirteen with a pocked face and a pert little nose.

"The battle is won, lady." The boy said eagerly. He looked at her in awe, having never seen a princess before.

"And the Swan Knights?" She asked quickly.

"A few have fallen. Some are wounded and being treated now."

She thanked him before dismissing him with a few coins in his hand. Ivriniel folded her hands together and strode out the inn. The men worked diligently to remove the bodies from the streets. Ivriniel spotted one of her Knights and quickly enquired after their supplies. He assured her that they were safe from harm. Ivriniel sighed in relief. The corsairs were known to choose their targets from time to time, wait for aid to be delivered and slaughter everyone before looting them. She also learned that Argon was wounded; a flesh wound to his calf.

She hurried to the healer's house. It stood with its door thrown wide open. The lesser wounded flocked the corridors. Ivriniel pushed past them, until she located her captain in one of the open room. He sat in his armour. His right leg rested on a chair in front of him, his trouser rolled up to his knee.

"You are far hairier than I imagined." Ivriniel announced as she strode into the room.

"It is a winter coat." Argon quipped. "Keeps me warm."

"Well, then, your winter coat forgot to shed for the rest of the year." Ivriniel turned to the middle-aged healer. The man had a balding head and a baggy chin. He looked harassed.

"Is he causing trouble?" Ivriniel asked.

"He will not let me attend to his wound." The healer said, throwing a cautious glance at Argon.

"I did." Argon protested. "He may bandage it."

"But, my lady, he was pierced by this." The healer explained. He held up a chipped and rusted dagger. "The wound must be clean, my lady. But he would not allow it!"

Ivriniel turned towards Argon and summoned all the patience she needed. She learned from experience that men like Argon or her brother made light of their injuries. It was easier to convince fish to leave the water than to sway them.

"You should allow the healer to work." She told him evenly.

"I have no need for his services."

"I was not requesting."

"I know. But I am not in the mood to follow any orders."

"Even if I speak for your welfare?"

"My welfare is the least of my concerns when you are present, my lady."

Ivriniel took in a deep breath and reminded herself it was unladylike to wish excruciating pain on one's loyal captain.

"I once saw a man who was injured by a rusted nail and thought nothing of it. He died a painful death a week later, his last moments in terrible convulsions that kept his entire body stiff and locked his jaw."

"You have a gentle and healing presence, my lady," Argon replied, the irony dripping from his words. Ivriniel's lips twitched in a smirk.

"I will stay." Ivriniel said firmly. Then she looked directly at Argon with a solemn expression. "As my guard continues to remind me, I must not go anywhere unaccompanied. Anything can happen." Argon roared in laughter.

"My lady," the healer protested. "You are not needed here. Women such as you are known to not cope seeing open wounds-" he fell silent immediately as she turned towards him. The dark look she gave that man could have melted lead. As it was, then the man's complexion turned white.

"I thank you for your concern," Ivriniel said in a steely voice. "It is so kind of you to form an opinion of all women when it is so obvious that you only met a few in your little span of life. I shall indulge you and give you the experience that not all of us are cut from the same fabric. Now get out of my sight." The healer mumbled and fled. Argon chuckled weakly behind her.

"The Valar protect all men from the fury of women," Argon joked. Ivriniel faced him, crossing her arms before her.

"No," she answered, "just me."

Argon smiled at her. Ivriniel returned it before she even realised it.

"Alright," Argon said suddenly. "I will allow my wound to be treated. But there is one problem."

"Oh? And that is?"

"You frightened away the healer."

In spite of herself, Ivriniel laughed.

 **oOo**

Finduilas' hair was better than her own, in Ivriniel's opinion. They both had silly hair but Finduilas' was soft like a pillow and fell in soft waves. Ivriniel's hair was thick, heavy and fell in a single sheet if unbound.

"Do you have to leave again soon?" Finduilas asked. She sat on a floor cushion with her back turned towards her. Ivriniel brushed her hair with long, relaxed strokes.

"You need to oil your hair more often," Ivriniel sad instead. "Perhaps, if father deems it necessary."

"Why do you have to go?" Finduilas asked. "Why not Imrahil? He is father's heir, after all."

"Imrahil is busy with warfare. Besides, I am our father's firstborn. When Imrahil deals with skirmishes and battles, I deal with relief for our people."

"Then why can't I go?"

"It is better for you here." Ivriniel said. She set down the brush and began weaving Finduilas' hair in an elaborate braid.

"But I-"

"I said no, Finduilas." Ivriniel said gently. After their mother died an untimely death, it fell on Ivriniel to look after her sister. But Ivriniel's reasons were more than mere protection for her sister. Finduilas was kind-hearted. The sight of suffering, coupled with possible danger, would be too much for her.

Finduilas sighed and said nothing.

"You are doing a lot by staying here." Ivriniel assured her. Finduilas scoffed.

"I only govern the daily errands of the palace." Finduilas said. Ivriniel reach the end of the braid and tied it with a white ribbon.

"That is not all that you do." Ivriniel corrected. "You make sure the kitchens are in running order, provide warm rooms for important guests, and inform our father of their cultures. Your work is unnoticed, but without it, things will fall into chaos." Finduilas turned around and laid her head on Ivriniel's knee.

"It would be easier, though," Finduilas murmured. "I could take one half of Gondor's coastline and you the other. The responsibility would be easier to bear." Ivriniel stroked her white cheek and smiled.

"Thank you, my dear. But I can bear it. You, on the other hand, are perfect where you are. As for the people... The people," Ivriniel trailed off and stared in a distance. The town received their supplies to better their chances of survival. But what next? They could not live on those supplies forever. There was always a risk of the corsairs returning. "The people will survive. We are old bones of this land. We will not perish easily."

Peaceful silence fell between the two sisters. Ivriniel absently stroked Finduilas' head as she gazed at nothing in particular.

"There are rumours." Finduilas mumbled.

"Are there?" Ivriniel asked, tucking a stray strand behind Finduilas' ear. She nodded.

"Yes, of Captain Argon."

Ivriniel stiffened. Finduilas raised her head and sat straight before Ivriniel.

"The gossip says his heart is not as cold as it once seemed. He has found a woman to catch his interest." Finduilas said. Ivriniel gave her a disapproving look.

"You should not listen to idle gossip, especially of someone as good as Argon."

"I had to." Finduilas insisted earnestly. "The woman is you." Ivriniel stared at her and then burst out laughing.

"Brains are addled in the palace, Finduilas." Ivriniel said. "They should have some remedy for it." Finduilas remained serious.

"You have not seen the way he looks at you, Ivriniel, when you are not looking. And he accompanies you without a complaint-"

"Oh, he complains." Ivriniel interrupted.

"If he does, he only does it for your attention." Finduilas insisted. "And I think you know it in your heart. Because you do not mind."

"Oh, I mind." Ivriniel said, annoyed. Finduilas looked at her speculatively.

"What is it?" Ivriniel queried.

"I think he loves you…and you feel the same."

 **oOo**

Imrahil watched warily as Argon downed another tankard and signalled for more.

"Did you know," Imrahil remarked wryly. "It is the Guard that should protect a royal and not the other way around?"

Argon was too far gone to care. His cheeks were warm red from the heat and liquor. Imrahil's smile faded. Argon was worried, and the blasted man refused to speak.

"What troubles you, my friend?" Imrahil prodded. Argon was not one of his closest friends but he stood shoulder to shoulder with him in hard times for so long that he did not consider him anything less.

"Nothing." Argon muttered in a quiet deadly tone that warned Imrahil not to pursue him any further. But Imrahil did not heed the warning.

"It must be something." Imrahil insisted. "I have seen you like this before but not so quiet and surly. Your presence makes poor company in this merry place."

"Then, damn you and leave me be." Argon snarled and glowered in his cup. Imrahil grinned, unperturbed.

"If I did not know you any better, I would have said you are in love-"

"Don't."

Imrahil stopped suddenly and gaped at the young man. Argon remained slouched over his mug, looking miserable.

"Oh," Imrahil responded dumbly. "Is she someone I know?"

Argon sank lower.

"Someone I know then," Imrahil concluded. He pondered for a moment. "A servant girl? No? Well, you never seemed the type. A noble, then? Hm, I am close but I have not yet hit the mark-" Imrahil stopped suddenly. He said in deadly quiet tone, "Not Ivriniel?"

Defeated, Argon stooped so low his nose nearly touched the table.

"Well... You certainly aim high."

"It's impossible, I know." Argon's voice was low and muffled. "You must be furious that I am infatuated with your sister."

"Oh, no," Imrahil corrected him hastily. "You are quite brave, in fact. Ivriniel has a way of cowing men and frightening them out of their wits."

"I know," Argon said wearily. "She is maddening. I do not know what I see in her, nor do I think I possess the common sense to do so. But I know that beneath her firm manners, she is kind and gentle. I know she is loyal and dedicated. In time, she will make a good wife."

"But?" Imrahil prodded, both his hands resting flat on their palms on the table. "What makes you think she will not have you?"

Argon barked a laugh.

"Have you seen us together?" Argon demanded. "She and I are too stubborn and we are too proud to ask for forgiveness or budge an inch from our decisions. What hope do you see for us?"

"As I understand it, a marriage between a strong-willed person and a weak-minded soul is a poor one. And what makes you so certain that you two will not suit?"

Argon looked at him, exasperated.

"I just told you." His gaze drooped. "The men teased me," Argon said. "Protecting a young woman, a powerful one at that, would take courage. Beautiful one at that." Argon shook his head. "I do not know why I argue with her. It is entertaining at times and other times..." Argon trailed off.

"And other times?" Imrahil prodded.

"She will finally look at me." Argon whispered. Then gave a self-mocking chuckle. "I am pining like a fool. She would probably rip me to shreds if I ever approach her with marriage in mind."

"Oh, I know my sister." Imrahil said thoughtfully. "Of all the men courting her, you are least likely to be maimed by her."

Argon groaned and slumped forward.

"Argon, look at me."

Argon refused. The Man's face was buried in his arm, the other hand loosely clasping his cup. Imrahil sighed.

"Fine. Don't look. But you will listen to me. Do not throw your hopes into the water just yet. I will speak to my father about this. I have known you for many years, and I have called you my brother at arms. I would be happy to call you my brother in marriage, as well."

Imrahil's small speech was answered with a soft snore.

Imrahil grinned and leaned back.

"I should have expected that." He muttered in dry humour.

 **oOo**

The weather was humid but not uncomfortable. The breeze from the Sea blew in heart torrents through the open windows of the library.

At noon, Adrahil always amused himself in his library when there were no pressing matters. As soon as Argon walked through the doorway, Adrahil ushered him in.

"Did you know there was a kind of Man long ago, with short statures and coarse hair?" Adrahil asked. "The Elves write fondly about them. Evidently, they were not much in looks but they were kind at heart. Their laughter was pure, the kind to bring unwilling smiles on the faces of those who heard them. They were honest workers but alas, time was unkind. Their offspring were few and far in between and the war took such a large toll on them that they perished."

Ordinarily, Argon answered with a barrage of questions but today, he remained silent and inclined his head in acknowledgement. Adrahil glanced his way, startled.

"What is it, boy? What- why are you kneeling?" Adrahil's shock deepened when Argon sank on one knee.

"I-I-" Argon trailed off and then took a deep, shaking breath. He focused his gaze on the floor below him. "I ask you to grant me leave from duty."

There was a soft rustle as a scroll dropped suddenly on the table.

"Valar beyond," Adrahil breathed. "That is not what I expected. Stand up, boy and look me in the eye."

Argon's eyes closed tightly. He hoped that Adrahil accepted his request without any objections but he should have known that Adrahil was resilient. Finally he obeyed, rising himself to his full height. He looked up.

Adrahil was a tall man, blessed with the talent to age gracefully. There was silver just at his temples, wrinkles at the outer corners of his eyes. His still possessed his handsome features and a fit body, except for a small pouch of his belly from age and some inactivity. In spite of it, Adrahil was still one of the remarkable swordsmen Argon knew.

Adrahil leaned over the table, bracing himself with his fists over the table. A frown marred his features. He nodded at him as a gesture for him to continue.

"I think it is time for me to return to my family and join my father's trade. He has the right of his son beside him in his old age."

Adrahil studied him speculatively.

"There's more." He announced finally. "I do not believe this small story you have concocted. It may fool anyone lesser but I know for many years. Come, come. Speak your mind. You are with a friend here."

Argon sighed.

"Is this about Ivriniel?"

Argon looked up, startled. Then he scowled.

"Imrahil's tongue wags more for a dog then a man." Argon muttered. Adrahil laughed and went around the table. He clapped him on the back.

"Well, I commend you," Adrahil said honestly. "I always worried for Ivriniel but I worried more for the man she meant to marry. However, I think you will do nicely. You are more likely to survive the longest in courtship."

"Thank you," Argon replied dryly, his previous nervousness disappearing. He sighed and met the older man's eyes directly. "I am a simple man." Argon said honestly. "I have no titles or lands. I do not bring wealth. I only have my name, my armour and my sword. I do not even have lodgings to claim as my own, and I only sleep in the barracks like other Knights. That is all that I can give to a wife, if any woman will have me."

"You underestimate yourself." Adrahil said. "You have your name, your honour and your upbringing. And that is more than most noblemen can offer."

Argon snorted and said nothing.

"You have my blessing."

"What?" Argon cried, looking up in his shock. Adrahil smiled.

"You have my blessing," Adrahil repeated. "I have my faith in you. If Ivriniel enjoys your company, I could not ask for a better son by marriage."

"I-I-" Argon stuttered, wondering how the situation turned for him.

"Besides," Adrahil said with a grin. "In the unlikely event that you forget yourself, and try to misbehave around my daughter, I might actually convince you for a duel to the death."

Argon winced at Adrahil's dark humour.

 **oOo**

The first day of their courtship was spent outdoors. It was a beautiful morning with a cloudless sky and a cool breeze. The chaperone who followed them closely was an elderly noblewoman with greying hair and a kindly face. There was a small lake nestled between high walls of stone near Dol Amroth. There were refreshments with them; meat bread, sweet cakes and more. They spread a cloth near the lake and sat in a stressful silence.

"My lady," Argon broke it finally. Ivriniel looked up at him. "If you are not comfortable, I will not mind escorting you back to the palace. We will never speak of this again." Ivriniel started and flushed.

"I apologise." Ivriniel said. "I make poor company at the moment. I am all right here."

"If your father and brother persuaded you for this-"

"They did not." Ivriniel said quickly. "It was my choice."

"Then why did you?" Argon challenged. Ivriniel raised her eyebrow, her previous unease disappearing.

"Why did you?" She replied.

"I seem to have a maddening attraction to long arguments and lack of inactivity." Argon answered after a pause.

"I can say the same." Ivriniel agreed. Then she hesitated before adding courageously. "But only with one companion. It is not entertaining with anyone else."

That brought a warm smile on his lips.

"I can say the same." He murmured.

Argon turned his head to the lake, still smiling pleasantly. Ivriniel's own smile faded slightly. In all accounts, Argon was admirable. He had flaws, but then she was sure she had a few.

"That is perfect." Argon said suddenly. Ivriniel looked at him, startled.

"Beg pardon?"

Argon grinned and jerked his head towards a large boulder some paces away from the shore.

"I don't understand." Ivriniel said. Argon looked at her and laughed lightly before he unclasped his cloak. He folded it by half and draped it on a nearby boulder. He unclasped his belt and set it beside his cloak. Then he began to tug off his boots.

"What are you doing?" Ivriniel asked sharply.

"I am going into the water." Argon answered. His boots dropped one after the other. He pulled off his tunic and rolled back the sleeves of his shirt. Ivriniel opened her mouth but before she said anything, Argon leaped into the water with a loud splash. The water nearly reached his hips. Argon waded and gathered rocks of varying sizes. Ivriniel watched him curiously as he set the rocks on the large boulder. He first used a stone as large as a fist. Then he balanced a long, stick-like rock on one of its tips.

"You know how to balance rocks." Ivriniel said, surprised.

"A talent besides using a sword," Argon confessed. "It is not the one I have much time of pursuing."

She watched, fascinated. Argon's forearms were slicked with water, his nimble fingers steadying the stone on its tip. Argon slowly withdrew his hand away, hovering nearby until he was sure the rock was steady. Then he slowly stepped away. He hauled himself out the water and hunted the ground for something that Ivriniel did not know. He picked a branch of wood, plucked the leaves from it. Then he went to his weapons and pulled a knife. Argon whittled for a while, until the branch was flattened. One edge had a small curve to it. With one hand on the curved edge, he set a small stone on the other one. He turned the branch and quickly let go.

"Amazing," Ivriniel breathed. She stood up and came to the shore. The branch turned on its own axis in perfect balance. "How did you do that?"

"Practice," Argon replied with a pleased smile, "And a lot of patience." He waded to her. "Come and join me." Ivriniel turned her attention to him.

"I am wearing a dress."

"That never hindered you before." Argon argued.

"That was because I had no choice." Ivriniel looked warily behind her. Their chaperone sat on a large cloth, an open book on her lap. "It would only be unseemly to jump into a lake, much as I wish to."

"Well, then, I give you my leave as your future husband to abandon deportment in all circles."

Ivriniel laughed. Then she realised that in spite of a small smile on Argon's face, he seemed serious.

"You must be joking!"

"Am I?"

"You know I cannot do that." Ivriniel protested, laughing lightly at the outrageous notion. "It is frowned upon- Argon, what are you doing?" She asked sharply when he reached her and grabbed her hand.

"I like it when you say my name." Argon answered, tugging insistently on her wrist. Ivriniel bent forward and struggled to keep her balance.

"Unlikely. Let go of me!"

"I can't. I have the sudden urge to throw you in water."

"Resist it, then! No lady should frolic knee-deep in water!"

"For someone who rides astride, believes women can be independent without marriage and carries out her duties like a man, you certainly are prudish." Argon gave her one last yank. Ivriniel gave an uncharacteristic shriek and stumbled into the water. Her dress stuck to her legs all the way up to her hips.

"There," Argon let her go with a satisfied grin. Ivriniel sputtered. "That is much better."

"Oh, you!" Ivriniel ducked her hand into the water and flung it at him. Argon turned away, laughing.

"My lady, I am afraid I must retaliate." He dipped his much larger hand into the water and flung it at her. Ivriniel shrieked as water soaked her hair.

"That is not a lordly thing to do!" Ivriniel's hands quickly went to the pink sash around her waist and untied it.

"Noble blood is too dilute in my-" Argon gasped as Ivriniel dipped the sash into the water and flung it at him. Water spattered over him, the sash catching him on his cheek, "In my blood." Argon finished. Ivriniel brought out her leg and hooked her foot around his one knee and pulled. Argon stumbled and fell into the water. Ivriniel laughed, feeling light as a feather as she tied her sash around her waist. Argon resurfaced, soaking wet and gasping.

"I thought it was not nice to throw someone in the water."

"I meant it was not a lordly thing to do. Women are often encouraged to use dirty tricks when they are assaulted by a large man." Ivriniel reasoned. Argon snorted and climbed out of the lake. He offered her a hand and pulled her out.

"You were not assaulted. You were encouraged." Argon corrected. Ivriniel shot him a wearying glance. Argon winked at her and picked up his cloak. He brought the ends of his cloak tight around her and smiled.

"I think, my lady," Argon said, voice quivering with amusement. "We should head back. I do not want you to catch a cold out in the open. Sit here while I tidy everything."

When he was done and they approached their horses, Ivriniel cast a wary glance at the third member of their company. Her supposed chaperone mysteriously did not notice the state of her dress.

Ivriniel was dismayed when she heard that Argon would no longer accompany her to her journeys as her captain. But Argon assured her he did not reconsider their courtship.

"I am not of a sound mind any longer." He confessed teasingly. "A captain must assess situation and protect his charge from all harm. But now I have feelings, my lady, and I fear that you may manipulate it for your own gain if I remain your captain. And I may overstep your boundaries, and abuse my position only to keep you sheltered."

Ivriniel first thought it argue, but she soon realised it was a blessing. He cared deeply for her freedom and did not wish to change her. Any other man would not have thought twice before forbidding her on her trips. Her heart warmed for him even more.

Ivriniel began to look forward to his visits. At times, they grew few and far in between. Argon's duties often carried him away, and Ivriniel's responsibilities kept her occupied. When they met, an elderly noblewoman kept them company with her embroidery at hand. They took a walk in the gardens.

They met again, a week after Argon returned from a mission with Imrahil to settle the unrest in nearby cities.

"It is going to rain." Ivriniel said warily. She looked up at the black and churning clouds filling the sky. Argon offered her his arm and Ivriniel accepted. "This is not exactly the kind of weather for a walk."

"We are not precisely an ordinary couple." Argon reasoned.

"It is strange courting the man who was once my guard." Ivriniel conceded. Argon looked annoyed.

"Being courted," he corrected indignantly. "Saying it is the other way around offends me... and my skills." Ivriniel laughed.

"Your skills need improvement."

"Ah, my lady is always speaks sweet words." Argon led her around a pebbled pathway and paused in front of a statue of a regal warrior watching over the statues of two dancing maidens. "The Lord Protector and his daughters. Do you know the story?"

"The Lord Protector was a hard and ruthless man. He exacted justice over many criminals, but he was gentle and tender-hearted with his daughters, whom he loved dearly." Ivriniel paused.

"The criminals hated the Lord Protector, and sought to capture his daughters for revenge." Argon paused and looked upon the statue of the Lord Protector. "But a father's love is not to be underestimated." Argon shook his head. "It is nothing but a fable."

"Many fables live on. There are more ridiculous ones. There is a creature half man and half horse-"

"Someone mistook a Rohir riding his horse." Argon scoffed.

"There is a creature in the form of a man with wings of an eagle from his back-"

"The Eagles."

"And another creature with the body of a woman and the tail of a large fish."

Argon laughed at that.

"I have personally heard of that one. The sailors have many ballads about beautiful young women of the Sea," Argon stopped and turned to Ivriniel. "They claim to find in love or unrequited love, at least, among these creatures... only to be eaten by them." Ivriniel winced.

"Sailors have strange notions of love."

"Do not tell them that." Argon said with a laugh. "They are very sensitive about love."

"And what about you, my captain?" Ivriniel teased, looking up at him. "Are you sensitive about love?"

"I believe I am," Argon said, looking at her. Ivriniel smiled, feeling warm.

Their eyes broke away when a servant hurried towards them.

"Lady Ivriniel," the servant greeted her with a bow. Then he turned towards Argon. "Sir Argon, Prince Adrahil requests your presence in the war chamber." Argon grimaced.

"I beg pardon," Argon said. He patted the hand she placed on his elbow. "But duty calls for me."

"I understand." Ivriniel assured him with a smile.

He unhooked her hand from his arm and pressed a kiss on the back of his hand.

"I didn't give you permission for that." Ivriniel said stiffly. Argon grinned. The servant looked at a nearby hedge as if it was particularly interesting.

"I didn't ask." He confessed. Ivriniel's lips twitched in unwilling smile. Argon bowed lightly at the waist and quickly excused himself. Ivriniel ambled back to where her chaperone sat, on a bench under a flowering tree. She looked up at the elderly woman when she reached her.

"You make a terrible chaperone." She told the matron. The woman only laughed and went back to her embroidery.

It was not lost on Ivriniel that Argon was actually likeable. He had amusing stories to tell and he never ran out of new topics to discuss. Soon, she began missing the squabbles before their courtship.

"You are jesting." Argon exclaimed in surprise when she confessed.

"I am actually quite serious."

"Valar beyond, woman. I thought you hated me then."

"I did." Ivriniel agreed, causing Argon to laugh. "But I did enjoy it somewhat."

"Well, I do not think it is wise to antagonise a woman while one is courting her." Argon explained.

"Strange. I never considered you the kind to actually care about manners."

Argon flashed a grin.

"I can behave when I need to."

"Need to?"

"A fair lady once told me that I need to marry. I have found a woman likely to keep my feet firm and I need my best behaviour to convince her to marry me."

Ivriniel felt warmth creep over her cheeks. She fought it back in vain.

"Now, you are simply overdoing it." She said.

"I am praising you."

"Is that what it is? It sounded more like a proposition hidden behind sweet words."

"I know a word for it."

"Oh?"

"Call it seduction then," Argon relented with a laugh. Ivriniel laughed with him.

"It is no wonder you cannot marry, if that is all the skill you have as a seducer."

"You wound my heart." Argon placed a hand over his heart in apparent hurt.

"You'll survive." Ivriniel said wryly.

"I will, if you agree to wed me. I can offer you many days filled with all the squabbles you desire."

"Now I would only call it an ultimatum." Ivriniel quipped. Argon laughed merrily and kissed her hand before she could stop him.

"My lady," Argon said with twinkling eyes. "I shall look forward to my life with you." With a deep bow, Argon turned on his heel and walked away.

"I may say no!" She called after him.

"You will say yes!" He called over his shoulder.

"Now I _will_ say no!"

Argon only laughed in answer.

 **oOo**

Imrahil sat with his father on a platform facing the green and lush gardens. He took a sip from his glass, the sweetness of peaches lingering on his lips.

"She said yes." Adrahil said wryly.

"So I heard." Imrahil matched his wry tone.

"I saw her giggling, Imrahil. Can you believe it? Ivriniel... was giggling like a young maiden on a harvest dance!"

Argon and Ivriniel appeared from the shadows of trees, arm in arm. Ivriniel's cheeks were flush with laughter.

"Argon will never have a dull moment in his life." Adrahil noted.

"And Ivriniel can handle a man like him." Imrahil added. Then he laughed. "If anything, she will douse his budding pride like water over fire!"

 **END**

 **~S~**

 **Author's Note:**

There! I can be romantic… take that, my dear friends who teased me! :P

This is directly connected to the "Lady in Red" storyline. I meant to continue that one, but since I like to do a character study first, I decided to write this little story to help me with Ivriniel's characterisation.

"Happy is the man who finds a true friend, and far happier is he who finds that true friend in his wife."- Franz Schubert.

King Aldor- He was the third King of Rohan, famously known to bring its golden age. He increased the lands of Rohan by conquering surrounding territories from the Dunlendings.

Do leave a review! :)


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